The Years of the Dragon
by hunt4max
Summary: Set before and during the film. Strange pairings. Even stranger relationships. Want a hint? READ THE STORY! Rating for violence, language, romance, action, and death in later chapters.
1. Love, and Lack therof

Thanks for clicking! Hope you like the story.

A/N: I don't own the rights to the movie, plot, concept, or characters. I only own a copy of the movie, which I've watched at least 20 times since buying it last month. Don't sue me. Please.

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**Chapter 1 – Love, and Lack Thereof**

Somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean, en route to Portugal

Alex looked to her right at Van Zan, trying to mask her face. She had denied her feelings to herself for years, knowing how hopeless it was. Falling for Van Zan was the biggest mistake of her life. She knew that her feelings clouded her judgment, and tempted her emotions to disobey her common sense, but she'd been trying for years without success. Nothing could make her heart let him go. Not even the thought of his rejection, or even worse, indifference. She was in far too deep to turn back. Even if she took this secret to her grave, there was no more will left in her to fight them any longer. Her infatuation, as she called it, was like a dragon that she couldn't slay. A fierce and terrible one that reared its ugly head without notice, burning her from the inside out slowly and painfully.

Ever since she was hand-picked by Van Zan to fly the chopper in his team of dragon-slayers, she had been struggling with herself. In flight school, where she was one of only five women in a school full of men, she had had too much self-doubt to rise above the ranks on her own. She was modest about her flying skills, but luckily one of her professors wasn't, so he had pushed her to go as high as she can, literally and figuratively. There, her expertise and natural ability to maneuver aircraft had caught Van Zan's eye, and his guidance and confidence had caught her heart.

Northumberland, England

Quinn looked over his shoulder and smirked, knowing that nothing irked her more than being second best to him. "Her" being Jack, who happened to be hot on his heels, but falling back gradually. Her stallion, Hades, who was usually tough competition for Quinn's horse, Hermes, hadn't been able to train every day, and as a result his skills had become quite rusty. Of course, Hermes wasn't in much better shape, but Hades was headstrong, and needed to be closely watched, unlike mild-mannered and obedient Hermes. Hermes was much easier to handle than Hades, although Jack's horsemanship was remarkable.

Turning the last corner, Quinn hopped off his horse and grinned, glad that he'd taken Creedy's advice. His best friend had seen him restless and overworked, and practically forced him out the door, telling him to take a walk or something. Even though Quinn hated taking orders, he had meekly obeyed, secretly thankful that someone had noticed his high-strung nerves. He had headed for the stables as usual, knowing that it gave him release and a sense of peace that was unattainable in any other part of the castle. There, he had run into Jack, who was apparently saddling up Hades for some much needed alone time. Seeing her wasn't a shock, as he knew the stables where her favourite place too. She went there to talk to the horses, and pamper them in little ways. She was the unofficial caretaker of these animals, and even though there were only three horses left, she devoted almost all her spare time to them. There, he had challenged her to a race. A race he'd just won. While rubbing down his horse and whispering in his ear, Quinn heard Hades approaching. Straightening, Quinn looked up to see Jack swing a booted leg over and slide off her horse.

Taking the reins that had been wound around the saddle horn, she lead Hades towards a water bucket, glaring at Quinn in silent defeat. Her green eyes flashed as she saw the mocking look on his face.

"You know, maybe if you learned control your horse, not to mention your temper, you might beat me someday." Quinn remarked snidely at the scowling figure.

"Maybe if you weren't such an arrogant wanker you'd know that it wasn't your skills that won this time, it was your horse, which, I might add, is smarter and more amiable than you." Jack snapped.

"Well aren't you a little ray of sunshine today." Quinn said, fully enjoying Jack's foul mood. "A friendly piece of advice. Call me for a rematch when you've learned to ride properly, Jack." Walking away after putting Hermes in his stall, Quinn threw another mocking smile behind him, catching Jack's glower. Quinn was referring to Jack's particular style of riding. Instead of using the reins, she had taken to controlling the horse by using her feet, and using her hands to hold onto the animal's mane. It was strange, but Jack claimed that yanking on the bit only made Hades' temper worse. Feeling much more relaxed, Quinn went to look for Creedy. He had an inkling that his good mood was going to last all day, whatever the generators or boilers did. Strange that only hanging out with Creedy and being the cause of Jack's displeasure put him in such a positive frame of mind.


	2. Musings

I've been on vacation for the last two weeks (in Alaska no less), so I couldn't update for a while. That was in August/Early September. Now I'm neck deep in homework. I'm so sorry. I hope you like the next bit!

Thank you to my reviewers! I hope you like the next chapter.

A/N: I own nothing.

A/N II: I take that back. I own Jack. And the horses. And the plot. And that's about it.

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**Chapter 2 – Musings**

Northumberland

Jack, muttering under her breath, shut up Hades in his stall, ignoring the horse's snorts and whinnies of complaint. Clearly, the race had not been enough exercise. Sitting on a charred crate, Jack propped her legs up against the barn door, and tried to think of more pleasant things than admitting defeat to that insufferable Quinn. Like tying him up and force-feeding him Hades' bit and bridle. She would have imagined more horrid things to give him, but the bit and bridle were the only useless things available at this moment. Everything else was needed and in short supply. Even food.

Absentmindedly, she fingered her silver ID bracelet, the only physical reminder of her family and old life. _Jacqueline Rosamund Desidère, _the inscription read. On the other side, _With love, Mum and Papa. _She thought back to the day, years ago, in 2000, when she had heard her hometown had gone up in flames, with no survivors. It had been while she was in Northumberland, visiting an aunt. Not wanting send a six year old to a pile of ashes that had once been her home and family, her aunt had raised her, hoping and praying the dragons would not come, living in fear every day. But come they did, and 15 years found Jack alone, hopeless, and desperate. That's when she found out about the castle, and the small community struggling for survival. She remembered dragging herself, broken arm, burns and all, into the castle, and pounding on the door with all the strength she could gather. That was three years ago. Now, at 24, Jack felt like an old woman. She barely recollected her family. All she could remember is her father's musical French accent when he spoke English, and her mother's red hair. Jack did have her mother's hair, in a sense, but while her mother's was so light it was almost blond, Jack's was the colour of autumn leaves, dark and bright.

Jack's thoughts turned back to Quinn. Condescending, unbearable, irritating Quinn who never failed to rub her the wrong way. Even though he was six years older than her, when he was provoking Jack he acted like an annoying younger brother. The most infuriating thing was that almost everyone else in the castle thought he was some sort of saint. She actually understood why; it wasn't hard to see what Quinn does for the community. Responsible for the lives of almost 300 people, having to be self-sufficient in every way, making difficult decisions, Quinn was almost a martyr in putting others first. The fact that he was half the age, or even less, of some of the people he led made him more serious and somber. She supposed that annoying her and having a drink with Creedy were his only outlets. But that didn't stop her from loathing him. All the other women didn't understand it. Whenever Jack stomped into the bunks or kitchen, gritting her teeth and seething about Quinn's latest escapades, the older women would just chuckle and exchange looks, or ignore her. Quinn was like a son to them, and like most mothers, blind to his flaws.

Realizing that her legs were falling asleep, she sighed and stood up, wincing as the blood started to flow. Not angry anymore, she stretched and headed off in the general direction of the castle, hoping to avoid Quinn for the rest of the day.

Abandoned warehouse, Southwest coast of Portugal

Alex stared at the flames crackling in the metal barrel, and looked up to see Van Zan walk over with two steaming mugs. After offering her one, he sat down and gazed into the fire silently, deep in thought. Alex, familiar with Van Zan's behaviours and habits, sat patiently, waiting for him to open up. She knew what the last eight years had done to him. Though he'd never been a charismatic and lively man, compared to his personality now, the man who'd handpicked her from flight school had been downright playful. Barely out of flight school himself, he'd been on the fast track up the ladder since there was such a shortage of commanders with skill. Each new country to aid, dragon to slay, and each man he'd lost had only made Van Zan retreat into himself even deeper. Even though Alex was the only one he confided in, per se, she had barely scratched the surface of his character.

She'd barely taken a sip when he spoke. Alex was surprised, but relieved. She knew that Van Zan took much longer to unclench his jaw, and it was a grueling process to pry him open.

"What happened out there?" Van Zan asked hesitantly. "Everything was going according to plan. So why did we lose Zeke and Sam?" Clenching his jaw, he looked at his powerful hands tightly gripping the dull metal mug. When Van Zan looked up into Alex's face, she was startled to discover the pent up guilt in his tragic blue eyes.

Acting braver than she felt, Alex reached with a shaking hand towards Van Zan's bare forearm, and gently traced a line of his large tattoo. She'd seen the majority of it before, stretching across both shoulders from each arm and crawling around his chest, and she knew that each curl, each line, each stroke represented Van Zan. It was his past, his present, and his future, looking, but not really disconnected from each other.

"It wasn't your fault Van Zan" Alex said, hoping that her heartbeat wasn't as loud to him as it was to her. "No one, especially you, had any idea that she was going to turn around and attack the truck. Zeke and Sam were good men. Men who knew what they were risking when they volunteered to come with us. It was their decision, and theirs only to make. You led them well, but the rest was up to them."

Not responding, Van Zan kept staring into the fire, his face unreadable, his beautiful blue eyes that made Alex's heart skip beats clouded, mysterious. After an eternity of staring into the fire, he stood up abruptly and left without a word, leaving behind a discouraged and hurt Alex.

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Please Review. Please? Don't make me beg… wait. I'm already begging. Meh. Whatever. Please? Also, please tell me if my chapters are too short. I just usually stop when it feels right, but maybe I should do what some of the other authors do and put several mini-chapters together. Any feedback is welcome. 


	3. The Inconcievable Higher Forces

Hello! I know that I don't update very often, and I try to find time to write as often as I can, but since school started, I haven't had time to breathe deeply, it seems. I'm very sorry; I'm doing the best that I can. I really hope you like my story, although I'm not very sure where exactly I'm going with this. Call it literary improv, if you will.

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! And if you're a Phantom of the Opera phan, please check out my other story. Just go to my author profile, and it's listed.

Please Please Please Review!

A/N: A bit repetitive, think not you? You know as well as I that I don't own anything, otherwise my work would have a much larger audience, and a big financial return.

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**Chapter 3 – The Inconceivable Higher Forces**

Creedy chuckled as he thought about the exchange that Jack and Quinn must have had in the stables. It was no accident that Quinn had run into her; Quinn could thank Creedy for that. Also being Jack's confidante, he knew that by this time of day, she'd get so restless and fed up with being trapped within four walls that she'd head out to the stables for what she called "sane conversation and company", referring to the horses. Knowing that Quinn also had a fondness for a particular horse, Creedy had pulled some strings, and Voilá! Another one of Creedy's setups in a long record of attempts within the last year. For the past three years, as Creedy watched Quinn's interaction with Jack, he'd noticed a different side of him emerging. The ever-serious, sober, gloomy, pensive Quinn acting juvenile and mischievous was beyond Creedy's imagining, but it had happened. The years that Creedy had spent beside Quinn, being his best friend and only constant companion, he'd never seen Quinn enjoy himself so carelessly. The way a man at the prime of his life should. And when Jack had arrived, Creedy had noticed the almost immediate change. Creedy was glad; Quinn seriously needed a hobby. Even a destructive one like clashing with Jack. Creedy, always perceptive, had immediately thought about what a good couple they would make. He knew how much Quinn would balk at the idea, if he knew, but like most of Creedy's ideas, if it entered his head, there was only one way it was getting out: becoming reality.

When the thought of hitching Quinn and Jack together occurred to Creedy last year, he'd immediately put it into action. Jack could hold her own, and more, against Quinn, they were equals in almost every way. Her temper, which made her hair colour pale in comparison, was a good contrast to Quinn's, which were calm, steady, and not easily ruffled. Creedy was sure that underneath the bickering and friction, there was something that resembled affection. The way Jack often came to Creedy to vent about Quinn's latest, the way Quinn always was much happier after an encounter with her, indicated that there was potential. This attempt was one of Creedy's many in trying to get those two in the same room. He had to be subtle though; Quinn always put the community ahead of his personal life, and Jack hated being forced to do anything, especially with Quinn. It didn't help that the few elderly women in the castle saw him as a sort of perfect son, and tried to pair him off with any woman within a certain range. That is, any woman who was good enough for their Quinn.

Creedy's wide grin grew to an almost colossal scale as he heard Quinn enter the room they shared. The lopsided smirk on Quinn's face almost mirrored the one Creedy had just wiped off to hide his guilt. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep his face from splitting in two, Creedy managed to casually ask Quinn if everything was ok.

"Everything is GREAT!" Quinn replied, not even bothering to change his now muddy pants. Struggling into a clean shirt, he turned around and faced his best friend. "Why, is something wrong?"

"No, no, it's just that you seem less wound up, that's all." Creedy said, then added slyly, "So, how was your ride?"

"Wha- How did you know I was riding?" Quinn said, suddenly feeling very outmanned.

"You're covered in mud and hay, you have your adrenaline smile on, and you smell like horse. Which is actually a nice change from the usual things you reek of." Creedy answered cheekily. He wisely left out a crucial and controversial piece of information: Quinn's adrenaline smile actually was one more of naughtiness, and the only time that expression graced his otherwise stoic features was after a close encounter of the Jack kind.

"No, seriously, how was it?" Creedy prodded, determined to find out from Quinn, for once, what happened.

Quinn shot Creedy a funny look. "Are you feeling ok? Since when do you care about horses? You hate horses. Especially Hades. If I recall correctly, you were the one that named him that. After he stepped on both your feet and bit you on the shoulder. So why the sudden interest in the equestrian world?"

Creedy quickly realized how obvious he was becoming, and hastily backed off. "No, I was just making sure you were less stressed out. After all, we can't have the Commander-In-Chief having a mental breakdown now can we?"

"Right…I have to go check the boilers again. See you at dinner." And with that, Quinn slipped back out the door, leaving Creedy alone to mentally kick himself for being too obvious.

Now in the castle, Jack looked around the dark hallway cautiously for any signs of Quinn. Seeing neither hide nor hair of that proverbial thorn in her side, she quietly made her way through, heading towards the kitchen. She was just about to sneak through the doors when she spotted Creedy through the open doorway. Groaning, hoping that he hadn't heard about her recent defeat, Jack stepped through the door.

" 'Lo, Jack. Have a seat." Creedy acknowledged her presence with a friendly greeting, noting her hay and mud-covered clothes, and braced himself for the fireworks to come. Judging by the size of Quinn's grin earlier on and the ominous black cloud that seemed to hang around Jack's head, this one was going to be a big one. But none came. Curiously, he looked over at the uncharacteristically quiet woman. "So, ya gonna tell me what's wrong anytime soon?" Creedy urged in his soothing Scottish brogue.

"Creedy, what happened to Quinn's family?" Jack asked, out of the blue.

Taken aback by the question, he hesitated before answering. "From what I can piece together, Quinn's dad was long gone before the Rise. His mum raised him in London, and she was killed in the mines by the first dragon. He lived on the streets for years, and banded the few remaining survivors, and managed to escape to this place before the city was completely turned to dust. He never talks about anyone in his family; I figure he's trying to bury the pain under responsibility. It worries me sometimes, seeing how he's so serious. He doesn't have any hobbies, except for that damned horse, Hermes. And even then, he doesn't go see it often. Always in the castle, taking care of business. I keep telling him that he's overworking himself, that the castle can survive for several hours without him fretting over everything. But he doesn't listen to me."

Jack listened quietly, trying to understand the different sides of Quinn. He never spoke about his family, like so many of the other inhabitants. It was just too painful. It was much easier to just push ahead, ignoring the past, not thinking about the long term future. A day by day survival method, if you will.

Still unnerved by the lack of explosions, and curious as to what exactly happened between them, Creedy asked "Why the sudden interest? Trying to get into his head?"

"No…Yes…I don't know. I was just curious. We all have a tragic past, and only a few are open about it. It's surprising how tight Quinn's mouth is when he's not mocking me. I guess I wanted to know why he only genuinely smiles around you, and always look like he's weighed down by this massive invisible weight. Like a castle full of people who depend on him for their survival."

"He's gonna kill me for telling you this, but he smiles after being around you too." Creedy whispered like a co-conspirator, taking a chance.

"But that's different. I cheer him up because he loves torturing me. Like the time he hid my books, and I was so upset I cried in front of the entire castle. The smile on his face lasted for days. Of course, I made fun of his horse, and his hair, but at least I didn't make him cry." Jack responded defensively.

Creedy shook his head, unsure of what to do. Correct her, saying that Quinn genuinely liked her company? He couldn't confess someone else's feelings. Especially when they weren't realized or admitted. But Creedy couldn't bring himself to not take advantage of this surprising and small show of attempted empathy. The question remained: How?

"Look, I'm sure Quinn didn't know how important those books were to you. He didn't mean to make you cry, although the sight of you with tears running down your face was surprising. I mean, I remember you clamping your teeth and just bearing it when we were straightening your arm out that day you arrived. I've known Quinn for ten years now, and let me tell you something I learned about him: he doesn't deal with people on a personal level very well. He apparently saw a lot of people he cared about die right in front of his eyes, and he was only a teenager, around Jared's age. Even when he was younger than that, he saw them die. I think that's when he figured out that caring about people only leads to getting hurt. That's why he doesn't have any friends, except for me. And you, in a twisted, Quinn-like way. Don't worry about his little pranks. I say play along. Humour him once in a while. I know it's hard for you, but for every offence, I'll sneak in a smack across his head."

Jack grinned at the last piece of advice. "Sure Creedy, I'll try. But I can't guarantee that he won't encounter some misfortune of his own. But it's hard to think of both Quinns that seem to exist. There's his normal side, so serious and obsessed about running the castle. I mean, he seems to be everywhere at the same time. Then there's the side I only see; the one that pulls pranks on me and bothers me and provokes me into throwing a tantrum, and all that for his entertainment!"

"I know. Here's the thing, Jack. Everyone needs something that gets them to unwind after a long day, and in Quinn's case, that something is mocking you. I guess it's a piece of his childhood that he's trying to gain back. Just bear with him. You can be more mature than him, right?"

Chuckling at the thought of playing older sister to Quinn, Jack stood up, and gave Creedy a hug. "Thanks for the talk. You know, for a friend of Quinn's, you're surprisingly wise!"

Creedy could only smile at that. If only she knew. If only she knew.


	4. Baby Steps and the Journey

Does anybody have any good ideas for the Alex/Van Zan pairing? I have a rough idea, but I'd love to hear what you think should happen to their relationship. Also, do you want more A/VZ or J/Q? Let me know!

A/N: I don't own. Anything. It's quite sad, actually.

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**Chapter 4: Baby steps and the Journey**

Madrid, Spain

The chopper blades whirled as the beast swooped down from the sky, jaws opened, ready to swallow the soldier plummeting towards Earth. The net was released, and as it snagged the wings of the dragon, suddenly jerking back the huge animal, Alex's heart soared. _Nothing like getting one after three days of chasing,_ she thought. _Tonight, tonight, maybe Van Zan won't clam up and brush me off. Maybe we'll have a normal conversation about something unrelated to the Rise. Maybe he'll tell me things he's never told anyone before, things about him that no one else knows._ Alex rolled her eyes at the last thought. _Don't flatter yourself. You may be the only person he talks to, not including commanding, but that doesn't mean he'll suddenly realize his undying love for you, confess it, and sweep you off your feet. Now stop daydreaming and focus on getting the chopper back down in one piece. _

Landing the helicopter like she'd done so many times before, Alex hopped off and joined the small group of soldiers already back on the ground. Surely slaying a dragon without losing any colleagues was a reason to celebrate? Of course, with supplies running so low, the real question would be: celebrate with what? The little food they had left was already stretched thin; they had no liquor either.

Alex let out a whoop, and was simultaneously crushed in a huge hug from two guys on either side of her. Giggling, she tried to fight them off of her before surrendering. Alex gasped for breath, and managed to wiggle out of their grasp. She was grinning from ear to ear as she looked around at her colleagues, her friends, her _family. _

She didn't see him. Of course, no one ever saw him. He was their heartless, cold commander; nothing more. Van Zan's stony countenance was firmly in place; no one looking at him would be able to guess the pain and frustration he held behind that mask. But he was frustrated. With himself, which rarely happened. Van Zan had always functioned best when he was uncaring, detached from the rest of the human race. But now, all that was changing. Because of a woman. He didn't know why he felt so weak around Alex. It wasn't lust, of that he was certain. Lust didn't come with the feeling of responsibility, the need to regard someone else's emotions, the desire to put her wants first. It couldn't be just a crush; it was too powerful to be something so trivial. So, what was left? Love? That last option wasn't even remotely possible. Van Zan had never been in love; to love required a heart. But, as he watched her hug her friends and laugh at nothing in particular, his nonexistent heart gave a lurch, and he felt bitterness course through his body. Perhaps it was jealousy; perhaps it was resentment of his helplessness and fear. To him, no dragon was as daunting as expressing his emotions. After all, everyone has dragons to slay. Van Zan was by no means a coward; he'd always been bold to the point of stupidity, but that night he looked in from the outside, and cursed his cowardice.

Northumberland

_Be sure that you don't make it into a habit, Quinn. You're starting to let your guard down. Not just with her, but, more importantly, with the dragons. _Quinn mentally reproached himself as he re-entered the castle after another horseback ride with Jack. He admitted, reluctantly, that beyond the prickly exterior and acid tongue, Jack was witty and refreshing, great company when he was feeling strained. But this was going to have to stop. Others may get away with frequent escapades, but as the leader, with so many lives depending on him, he couldn't afford to be distracted. Of course, he couldn't help it if Creedy, his right-hand man, _forced_ him to take a break now and then, right?

Lost in thought, Quinn made his way to the basement of the castle, where the plumbing had been causing some problems again. He was so unaware that he nearly collided with Vaughn in the dark corridor, which was sufficient in snapping Quinn out of his stupor.

Vaughn was Quinn's rival for the throne, so to speak. Ambitious without skill, he was always rebelling and questioning Quinn's authority. Quinn, with reason, was always wary when it came to Vaughn. He was unpredictable, and often violent. A walking time bomb. The fact that most of the castle regarded him as a spoiled child who wanted power but not responsibility didn't help matters. Not a lot of people supported Vaughn, and was loyal to Quinn, for which the former was resentful and latter was grateful.

"Why _hello, _Mr. Abercromby." Vaughn sneered; taking in Quinn's dirty riding clothes. "Have a nice roll in the hay? I never thought of you as Jack's type, but you know, I guess you must have a thing for redheads." Here, Vaughn crossed, no steamrolled, over the line, completely oblivious to the danger he was in. "But the real question is, how good is she in the sack?"

Quinn, quicker with his fists than his tongue, lashed out with his right arm. A satisfying crack echoed out as knuckles met jaw, and Quinn, far from appeased, was about to hit him again when Creedy ran forward. "Quinn, STOP!" he hollered, grabbing Quinn's fist from behind. Apparently, Creedy had seen the whole exchange, and had come to make sure Quinn didn't beat Vaughn to death.

Quinn was breathing hard, not from the exercise, but from the rage. His steely grey-blue eyes were like wild storm clouds. He couldn't believe anyone would talk like that about Jack. Vaughn always criticized his decisions, but had never made such a personal insult, and it infuriated Quinn. His blood boiled, and he longed to hit him again. But one look at Creedy, and he restrained himself. Creedy's silent glare spoke loudly. _Don't be an idiot and sink to his level. It wouldn't help your, and Jack's, reputation, if you reacted as if the accusations were true. _Creedy glowered at Vaughn, who was attempting to get up off the floor, still dazed by the blow. How dare he! How dare he take such a low shot! How dare he try to destroy the fragile, though growing, relationship between Quinn and Jack! Especially when Creedy had worked so hard to bring them to this point!

Creedy opened his mouth first. "Vaughn, you were lucky this time. Don't push your luck. Next time, I might not be there when Quinn attempts to kill you for ruining his, and Jack's, reputation", he growled. Vaughn, pathetically nodding, ran off in the other direction.

Creedy turned to Quinn. "Calm down. I doubt he's going to be making any remarks about you and Jack anytime soon. I'm assuming the accusations aren't true." Here, Creedy looked pointedly at Quinn, who was still looking like he wanted another go at Vaughn. Quinn returned the look.

"Oh no, not you too! Of course not! You're my best friend! You know as well as I how I feel about Jack. She's just a casual acquaintance. And an infuriating one, at that. There are over 150 women in this castle. So WHY is it that I get accused of being involved with Jack? By everybody! I haven't been in a relationship for almost an entire decade!"

"No wonder you're so miserable and uptight." Creedy replied cheekily. "First, I know, as well as you do, that Jack isn't just a "casual acquaintance". Recently, you're always heading for the stables when you have a bit of spare time, and it's not just because you love horses. Don't think everyone hasn't noticed. Second, the reason you are always associated with Jack is because out of the 150 or so women, 90 are children or teens, 40 are old enough to be your mother, and out of the 20 left, only 8 are single, and younger than you. Its tough pickings here, Quinn, and Jack is the only one you know by name. Plus, she's gorgeous. Red hair, green eyes, and she's tough as nails. Everyone knows about her. She's the one who walked, without food, I might add, 10 km with a broken arm and tons of burns." Creedy sobered at the memory.

Quinn sighed, knowing Creedy, as usual, was right. "Then why don't you date her? She hates me. Has, ever since I made her cry in front of the whole castle. She probably just deals with me because she needs an extra hand with the horses or something. Not that I want to date her." He added hastily.

Creedy took Quinn's words with a grain of salt. "Look, I'm not going to date her because she obviously doesn't think of me that way. I don't see her like that, either. We're perfectly happy as friends, thank you very much. Oh, Quinn?"

"Yeah?" Quinn turned to his friend.

"Ten years?" Creedy questioned incredulously. Quinn just sighed at Creedy's parting words.

The first thing Creedy did as soon as his duties were done was find Jack. It wasn't hard; she was patching up some kids in the infirmary, where she was on duty most of the time. Awkwardly trying to comfort the crying boy, who had a scraped knee, she carried him to the door, where his anxious older sister waited. After handing the sniffling child over to more expert hands, she slumped on the small cot, not noticing her visitor.

"Hey," Creedy said kindly, knowing that Jack wasn't very happy or comfortable working with children. "How are you?" He sat beside her, the cot groaning protest at the weight of two grown adults.

"I honestly don't know. I guess I must have been a child once, but somehow, I can't put that experience to good use. Why do children have to be so sodding loud?"

Creedy chuckled, sympathizing. "I know what you mean. But, there's a reason why people have children. It's the pride and joy they feel, a sense of purpose in their lives. The kids here, especially, they really grow on you."

"Yeah, well, so does fungus." Replied Jack cynically. Then, more seriously, she continued. "I can't imagine wanting to bring another life into this horrid world. Maybe when times change, and I learn to handle kids, I'll think about having them." At her words, both Jack and Creedy sat in silence, thinking of their own stolen childhood.

Creedy, anxious to get to the real reason why he was there, changed the subject. "Actually, I came here to tell you something. Something that might surprise you a little."

That got Jack's attention. "What is it? Is it good news? We've made contact with someone, haven't we? Where are they? Do they have supplies? Do they have food?"

Creedy interrupted Jack before she got too excited. "No, it's a bit of a personal matter, actually. Involving you and Quinn." Here, he cautiously glanced at Jack, hoping she wasn't immediately jumping to conclusions.

"Oh. What's so important about that? We've barely had a dozen civilized, normal conversations. Hardly anything to call private or personal." Jack said, looking at Creedy curiously.

"Well, others wouldn't agree. Especially Vaughn." At the mention of Vaughn, Jack groaned, secretly hoping Creedy had pummeled the living daylights out of him. Creedy continued. "Right after Quinn came back in from the stables, he bumped into Vaughn. Vaughn, being Vaughn, made a comment about you and him and…ahem, a "roll in the hay". It was the stupidest thing I had ever heard, even for Vaughn. So, Quinn, the strong, silent one, hooks the imbecile in the jaw. Surprised would be an understatement. So, Vaughn's down, the wind knocked out of him, and Quinn has this murderous look on his face, so I go stop him before he kills someone. I've never seen him lose his temper like that. Ever. And at something so tiny and stupid."

Jack just looked at Creedy, puzzled. "That's it? You come down here to tell me that Quinn socking Vaughn once is important? Wow, you must be really bored or something, 'cause one punch isn't really that impressive, even for Quinn."

Creedy smacked his forehead, wondering how two bright, intelligent, perceptive people could be so thick. "No! The punch is not the important bit! The important bit is Quinn's motive!"

Again, Jack was perplexed. "Vaughn deserving a beating because he's a bloody wanker?"

"NO!" Creedy bellowed so loudly that Jack jumped three meters into the air. "Vaughn's comment about you and Quinn in the sack! That's the important bit."

"Okay; he doesn't like false rumours. Got it." Jack said, giving Creedy a funny look. "Seriously, are you feeling alright? You're not delirious or anything." At this point, Creedy was becoming so aggravated, he couldn't talk straight. But he managed to sputter out his point.

"Quinn was upset that Vaughn had made a less than flattering comment about you. Nothing ever pushed him over the edge, so out of control before. Until you and your honour-that-needs-to-be-defended-from-scum-like-Vaughn came along. So, obviously, there's something more between you two than you're willing to admit. Especially Quinn, who, get this, had the nerve to ask me why I don't date you."

Jack though Creedy's words over. That didn't make any sense. If Quinn had reacted because her reputation was involved, and not Vaughn being a pain in the neck, it meant that…that…DAMMIT! She wasn't good at this sort of thing. She couldn't, and didn't flirt with the guys like the other women. She found the whole men-women relationship mystifying. Horses were so much simpler. You feed them and groom them and talk to them, and they love you. Men were strange, unpredictable, and a mystery altogether. No matter how hard she tried (which, up to now, was not at all), she'd never figure them out.

"Creedy, you're crazy. Quinn and I are acquaintances, nothing more. So what if we both love riding? We're always bickering, and always have been. We definitely don't think of each other as…well…in that way. So, just don't go around announcing engagements or anything, 'kay?" Jack reassured Creedy, who looked, if possible, even more irritated. "See you at dinner. I can't wait to see Vaughn's bruise. How much do you want to bet that he won't show up? Probably will hide out in his room, crying about his beautiful, ruined face." At the mention of Vaughn crying, Jack's expression lit up, obviously having forgotten all about the previous conversation. Creedy sighed, wondering, not for the first time, why he even bothered.

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Wow. The longest chapter yet. I hope that reading it was as fun for you as writing it was for me. PLEASE REVIEW! 


	5. Self Discovery

Yes, I got more reviews! Thanks to my now regulars, The Cougar and Random Day, and my new ones, livinitlarge and mysteriouswonder284 (yes, I am VERY disappointed that many writers are not updating their Reign of Fire fics.) THANK YOU!

If you have any suggestions as to the plot, don't hesitate to tell me. Should I give Creedy a girl too? And I'm getting writer's block whenever I try to write about Alex and Van Zan. I hope some of you have suggestions; requests, as long as they're reasonable, will be met! Oh, and I hope you don't mind me changing Van Zan's name; I don't think "Denton", in any way, is impressive or suitable.

A/N: Don't own.

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**Chapter 5: Self-Discovery**

Northumberland

The nine year anniversary of the Haven Castle was tomorrow, and the whole place was chaos. Everyone was planning a big celebration, within reason of course. The women, who had started their scheming two months before, had completely excluded the men, which happened to be a pleasing arrangement to both parties involved. That way, women kept the men from making a mess of the whole affair, and the men, who really couldn't be bothered in the first place, saved their sanity. For the most part, Quinn washed his hands of the matter. He only interfered to remind, time and time again, wearing that worried frown, that things should be kept low-key, as supplies were low and the harvest wasn't as plentiful as they would have liked. Still, the restrictions did nothing to dampen the jovial mood everyone was in.

Jack had, from the very beginning, shown to be as useless as the men when it came to such matters. She didn't seem to have a womanly bone in her body. She couldn't sew (unless it was a wound), create decorations, or plan a meal. Jack frequently complained at every council meeting, saying that she'll do grunt work but won't be involved in any of the actual planning. So, eventually, she was banished until needed, and took to visiting Hades in the stables more often than usual.

Quinn and Jack had reached a strange truce, of sorts. Weeks ago, when Quinn had nearly beaten Vaughn to death, any hostility between Jack and Quinn had disappeared. Instead, there existed a peculiar bond between the two. Jack, surprisingly, had offered the olive branch first by complementing Quinn on the beautiful bruise Vaughn sported, unknowingly breaking the ice. Quinn had stared, then, unexpectedly, laughed. Taken aback by the rare sight and sound of Quinn laughing with, rather than at, her, Jack hesitated before joining in. Sniggering, they both openly examined the purple and blue jaw, while Vaughn just glowered silently. From that day on, they ceased to become just casual acquaintances or riding opponents. They became friends, much to the rather badly concealed delight of Creedy.

The ninth anniversary was a big affair. It commemorated the ninth year of survival for Haven Castle. The ninth year of being alive in Northumberland. Haven was a home, and not just a shelter to the people. Haven's people were thankful to be alive, and Haven Castle was a place for them to catch their breath, heal, and find a family. The children, who couldn't remember a time in their life where fear and death had overshadowed everything else, were ecstatic about it. Haven, and the upcoming party, was a glimmer of normalcy, slivers of lost childhoods and carefree innocence. Haven gave the Fire Children, as the older ones called them, someplace where they could take shelter from the turmoil the rest of the world. And the Fire Children loved Haven, and Haven's founders and leaders, Quinn and Creedy. Their affection and fierce loyalty for the two men was rooted in Creedy's sense of humour, Quinn's leadership and protection, and the fact that they genuinely cared about them. Also, Quinn and Creedy acting out "bedtime theatre" for the children helped their popularity immensely.

That, in retrospect, was one of the things that prevented Jack from completely hating Quinn. She found it impossible to thoroughly detest him after seeing him entertaining or comforting the children. It fascinated her that Quinn, who was so serious and stiff, was so skilled with children. Especially since she didn't have the talent herself.

So, with the castle abuzz with activity, or, rather, the fretting of countless women, Quinn checked the castle top to bottom. He knew how much tomorrow meant to the women, and he didn't want the boilers breaking down or the plumbing backfiring. It was almost midnight when, finally reassured, he went to bed.

Jack was quite rudely woken up by her three roommates, motherly older women with surprisingly loud lungs. Groaning, she managed to wretch one eye open to look at the offenders. They didn't even look ashamed to have woken her up. One of them, Maggie her name was, chirped to Jack "Wake up, sleepyhead! You promised us labour, and there are lots of things to do today."

Jack groaned again, louder this time. Why did she have to room with Maggie, Cynthia, and Janet, the most annoying morning people she'd ever met? _Because you couldn't stand the other women's gossiping and petty arguments, remember? **You** asked for different roommates and **you **asked for a different room, and you got what you asked for. But I didn't ask for **this! **I can't **stand **mornings! Stop whining and get out of bed! _Slightly disturbed that she was having an argument with herself (and losing, to boot), she dragged herself up, then asked sleepily "What time is it?" She nearly screamed in frustration when she heard the reply.

"Nearly 6, sleepyhead! We have a long day ahead of us, and we can't spend it lounging in bed, can we?" Janet said, with an impish grin. Jack, who was on the way down from her top bunk, tripped and nearly fell flat on her face in shock. 6? _In the morning? _What has she gotten herself into? Trying to keep her balance, she leaned on the rickety bunk bed and changed into old jeans. After tying her hopelessly tangled mane into a messy ponytail, Jack muttered to herself, and followed the women out the door.

She plodded into the large, industrial sized kitchen, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. When she saw who was in the kitchen, she wished, once again, that she was back in bed. "Mornin', Jack" greeted Creedy and Quinn, very much amused by her "morning face", and not even bothering to hide it. Jack, stopping mid-rub, squinted at the pair, who were chuckling into their coffee mugs. At first irritated, then also amused, she stretched out her arms, and walked stiffly towards the two, growling, becoming a rather disgruntled Frankenstein.

"Coffee…Coffee…" Jack chanted, earning a snort from Creedy and a howl from Quinn. Suddenly herself again, she grinned, and grabbed another mug. "You two are so easily amused." Switching subjects as quickly as changing her moods, she asked "How do you guys do it? I mean, I can't get up this early, unless my life is at stake."

"You got up this morning, didn't you?" Quinn pointed out.

"Yes. Because my life was at stake." Jack grinned again, and quickly wiped it off when she saw her roommates look over from the other side of the kitchen. Jack sank down on a chair, and pretended that she hadn't said anything. Janet, sensing something was going on, looked at Jack suspiciously, while Jack returned an equally distrusting look.

After getting their breakfast, Janet, still uneasy, ordered "Downstairs, courtyard, IMMEDIATELY!" Jack rolled her eyes, gulped down the last of her coffee, and sent Quinn and Creedy a silent, but clear pleading look. They gave her helpless ones back. When Janet wanted something, she got it, despite interference. It was best just to stay out of her way.

It was mid-afternoon, and the courtyard was decorated with candles ready to be lit, the feast was well underway towards being ready, and Jack was hooking up an old boombox to the generators. All day she'd been slaving for Janet, and under her hawk-like gaze, Jack couldn't escape. Jack, feeling like her back was going to give way, grimaced as she stood up. Maggie noticed, and feeling slightly guilty, sent Jack away. "We're done for now. I think you've earned a break. Go. We can handle things from here. If you see Jared, send him over; he's always willing."

Jack thanked her profusely, and headed out. After stopping in the kitchens for a snack, she went to the infirmary, where she usually was on duty. There, Jack found Jared, substituting for her. It was quiet, and empty. After sending him to the courtyard, she sat down on the cot, and took a bite of her roll, and leaned against the wall, exhausted. She didn't know when she fell asleep.

Quinn had been digging in one of the tunnels out of the boiler room when there was a minor collapse. It wasn't enough to knock him unconscious, but it grazed his left shoulder, tearing the skin and bruising it seriously. Dazed and in pain, he managed to wave away the rest of the concerned men, and convince them that he could find the infirmary by himself. Holding his shirt in his hand, but too injured to put it on, he managed to find the infirmary. Hoping someone was on duty, he opened the door.

When Quinn saw Jack asleep, something tugged in his chest, and he felt lightheaded. The sight of her sleeping, propped up against the wall, made him look at Jack in a completely different way. Of course, Quinn had always known she was beautiful in a wild, untamed way. But he had never been really aware of that fact. Until now.

Jack's hair, more disheveled than usual, escaped the ponytail it had been in, brightly contrasting with the drab stones behind it. Fascinated by the strands of colour, Quinn involuntarily wondered what it would be like to rake his hands through them, before pushing that thought aside. Tearing his eyes away from them, he contemplated waking her up, but Jack's expression stopped him. So solemn, filled with worry and fatigue; even in her sleep Jack seemed to be brooding. Knowing Janet, Jack must have been worked to the bone, and Quinn suddenly felt protective of her. Not even remembering his own pain, Quinn stayed standing, watching Jack with awed eyes.

He didn't have to wait long; she woke up almost immediately. When she saw Quinn, she smiled drowsily before rolling off the cot and stretching. Jack raised an eyebrow, looking over Quinn's half-clothed appearance.

Jack may not have been very feminine, but she was a woman, nevertheless, and Quinn's bare torso didn't go unnoticed. She caught herself staring at his wide shoulders, the sinewy arms like braided iron, the rippling stomach, and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. _Stop staring! Since when do you act strange around men? It's not like you've never seen a man's bare chest before. Act natural!_

"Now whaddya do to yourself, Quinn? How many times to I have to tell you, you're not old enough or big enough to play with the big boys." Jack joked a bit stiffly, pulling out supplies from the cabinets at the far end of the room. Suddenly turning serious, she asked "What happened?"

"Cave-in where I was digging; nothing too serious, it's not broken, I think." Quinn replied with a grimace. He couldn't help but notice the way Jack's hand brushed his shoulder as she wiped the dirt off. "Honestly, you don't have to fuss. It's just a flesh wound."

Jack stopped cleaning the gaping flesh, mid-wipe, and jabbed him in the side. Which was just has firm and muscled as the rest of his body. "Stop acting macho; it's not convincing me. You should have made sure it was safe by putting up reinforcements or something. Now just keep still. You're making my job harder, sodding wally." She chided him, glad that he hadn't spotted her momentary awkwardness. The last thing she wanted was discomfiture between them; their friendship had turned out to become one of the most important things in her life.

The wound cleaned and bandaged, Jack told Quinn to just take it easy for a while. No heavy lifting, intense manual labour, the usual. She also told him that it's ok to let others do their share. "Look at Janet, Quinn. You don't see HER feeling guilty about ordering me around, do you? It's not like you're going to turn into some sort of dictator; if you did, I'd pound you clean through and feed you to my horse." Jack said with a grin.

Quinn just waved the advice away. He attempted to put his shirt back on, but found that he couldn't move his shoulder. The throbbing was strong, and as much as he tried, he couldn't control his arm. Jack noticed, and dropped the rest of the stuff on the cot, and turned to help him out. "Here, let me. Before you rip it open further." Jack said, trying to ignore his bare skin, so close to her.

Gently, she eased the sleeve over his left arm, which was hanging limply in front of him. She made sure it didn't push the bandages out of place, and tugged it over his head. As the shirt fell into place, Jack unexpectedly met Quinn's eyes, and for a moment, the air seemed to crackle with unseen energy. Time stopped, and Quinn's mind was blank as he drowned in her emerald eyes. It was at that moment that the tables turned, the balance shifted, and status quo changed. Everything suddenly became different, and though both felt it, they couldn't describe it or even identify it, for that matter.

And then, as suddenly as the moment started, it was over as Jack cleared her throat. Quinn blinked, stunned. Dazed by the moment, he left the room, shutting the door behind him. Neither one said anything.


End file.
